Poetry

warm Persian sea-board: so they stream’d
The Tartars of the Oxus, the King’s guard,
First, with black sheep-skin caps and with long spears;
Large men, large steeds; who from Bukhara come
And Khiva, and ferment the milk of mares.
Next, the more temperate Turkmens of the south,
The Tukas, and the lances of Salore,
And those from Atreck and the Caspian sands;
Light men, and on light steeds, who only drink
The acrid milk of camels, and their wells.
And then a swarm of wandering horse, who came
From far, and a more doubtful service own’d;
The Tartars of Fergana, from the banks
Of the Jaxartes, men with scanty beards
And close-set skull-caps; and those wilder hordes
Who roam o’er Kipchak and the northern waste,
Kalmyks and unkemp’d Kazakhs, tribes who stray
Nearest the Pole, and wandering Kirghizzes,
Who come on shaggy ponies from Pamir.
These all fil’d out from camp into the plain.
And on the other side the Persians form’d:
First a light cloud of horse, Tartars they seem’d,
The Ilyats of Khorasan: and behind,
The royal troops of Persia, horse and foot,
Marshall’d battalions bright in burnish’d steel.
But Peran-Wisa with his herald came,
Threading the Tartar squadrons to the front,
And with his staff kept back the foremost ranks.
And when Farud, who led the Persians, saw
That Peran-Wisa kept the Tartars back,
He took his spear, and to the front he came,
And check’d his ranks, and fix’d them where they stood.
And the old Tartar came upon the sand
Betwixt the silent hosts, and spake, and said:⁠—
“Farud, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear!
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day.
But choose a champion from the Persian lords
To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man.”
As, in the country, on a morn in June,
When the dew glistens on the pearled ears,
A shiver runs through the deep corn for joy⁠—
So, when they heard what Peran-Wisa said,
A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran
Of pride and hope for Sohrab, whom they lov’d.
But as a troop of peddlers, from Kabul,
Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus,
That vast sky-neighbouring mountain of milk snow;
Winding so high, that, as they mount, they pass
Long flocks of travelling birds dead on the snow,
Chok’d by the air, and scarce can they themselves
Slake their parch’d throats with sugar’d mulberries29⁠—
In single file they move, and stop their breath,
For fear they should dislodge the o’erhanging snows⁠—
So the pale Persians held their breath with fear.
And to Farud his brother Chiefs came up
To counsel: Gudurz and Zoarrah came,
And Fariburz, who rul’d the Persian host
Second, and was the uncle of the King:
These came and counsell’d; and then Gudurz said:⁠—
“Farud, shame bids us take their challenge up,
Yet champion have we none to match this youth.
He has the wild stag’s foot, the lion’s heart.
But Rostam came last night; aloof he sits
And sullen, and has pitch’d his tents apart:
Him will I seek, and carry to his ear
The Tartar challenge, and this young man’s name.
Haply he will forget his wrath, and fight.
Stand forth the while, and take their challenge up.”
So spake he; and Farud stood forth and said:⁠—
“Old man, be it agreed as thou hast said.
Let Sohrab arm, and we will find a man.”
He spoke; and Peran-Wisa turn’d, and strode
Back through the opening squadrons to his tent.
But through the anxious Persians Gudurz ran,
And cross’d the camp which lay behind, and reach’d,
Out on the sands beyond it, Rostam’s tents.
Of scarlet cloth they were, and glittering gay,
Just pitch’d: the high pavilion in the midst
Was Rostam’s, and his men lay camp’d around.
And Gudurz enter’d Rostam’s tent, and found
Rostam: his morning meal was done, but still
The table stood before him, charg’d with food;
A side of roasted sheep, and cakes of bread,
And dark green melons; and there Rostam sate
Listless, and held a falcon on his wrist,
And play’d with it; but Gudurz came and stood
Before him; and he look’d, and saw him stand;
And with a cry sprang up and dropp’d the bird,
And greeted Gudurz with both hands, and said:⁠—
“Welcome! these eyes could see no better sight.
What news? but sit down first, and eat and drink.”
But Gudurz stood in the tent-door, and said:⁠—
“Not now! a time will come to eat and drink,
But not to-day: to-day has other needs.
The armies are drawn out, and stand at gaze:
For from the Tartars is a challenge brought
To pick a champion from the Persian lords
To fight their champion⁠—and thou know’st his name⁠—
Sohrab men call him, but his birth is hid.
O Rostam, like thy might is this young man’s!
He has the wild stag’s foot, the lion’s heart.
And he is young, and Iran’s Chiefs are old,
Or else too weak; and all eyes turn to thee.
Come down and help us, Rostam, or we lose.”
He spoke: but Rostam answer’d with a smile:⁠—
“Go to! if Iran’s Chiefs are old, then I
Am older: if the young are weak, the King
Errs strangely; for the King, for Kay Khosrow,
Himself is young, and honours younger men,
And lets the agèd moulder to their graves.
Rostam he loves no more, but loves the young⁠—
The young may rise at Sohrab’s vaunts, not I.
For what care I, though all speak Sohrab’s fame?
For would that I myself had such a son,
And not that one slight helpless girl I have,
A son so fam’d, so brave, to send to war,
And I to tarry with the snow-hair’d Zal,
My father, whom the robber Afghans vex,
And clip his borders short, and drive his herds,
And he has none to guard his weak old age.
There would I go, and hang my armour up,
And with my great name fence that weak old man,
And spend the goodly treasures I have got,
And rest my age, and hear of Sohrab’s fame,
And leave to death the hosts of thankless kings,
And with these slaughterous hands draw sword no more.”
He spoke, and smil’d; and Gudurz made reply:⁠—
“What then, O Rostam, will men say to this,
When Sohrab dares our bravest forth, and seeks
Thee most of all, and thou, whom most he seeks,
Hidest thy face? Take heed lest men should say,
Like some old miser, Rostam hoards his fame,
And shuns to peril it with younger men.”
And, greatly mov’d, then Rostam made reply:⁠—
“O Gudurz, wherefore dost thou say such words?
Thou knowest better words than this to say.
What is one more,